


Driven to Madness

by Faerieoftara



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, and yes that is a greek god, totally inspired by Ben Whishaw in Bakkhai, who becomes a familiar character, yes it will be 00q, yes this is not a full fic yet i'm just wondering if people want to read more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 10:28:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7614568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faerieoftara/pseuds/Faerieoftara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you do when there's nothing left except to die? But you've cheated death so many times, why give in now? What influence can any higher power have on a life that has been broken and beaten countless times? </p>
<p>(or: the fic where Bond meets an unfamiliar face after being shot off a bridge and his world changes irrevocably)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Driven to Madness

**Author's Note:**

> This is not my usual writing style, so please let me know what you think!

“I’m all for drinking yourself into a stupor, but this is pathetic.” Bond looks up, anger in his eyes, a retort on his lips (who fucking _dares_ ), but the words die in his throat. The man beside him is tall, even seated on a rickety barstool, with a full beard, waves of dark hair to the middle of his back, wearing a loose, long sleeved cream coloured shirt. The man turns, bringing a glass to his lips, and takes a sip of the dark liquid as he stares at Bond.

His eyes are deep, a green-grey that Bond finds himself drowning in.

_A forest of green with no end, a threatening storm of grey brewing overhead, the taste of chaos, the scent of death, the feeling of a mind beginning to unravel, a frenzied madness of colour and sound, climbing higher and higher, unable to stop-_

Bond coughs, looks away.

There is something off about this man. 

The man says nothing more, just sits and sips his drink, eyes singularly focused on the broken agent beside him.

Bond has always managed to ignore distractions, and so he dismisses the unsettled feeling deep in his gut. He fights the urge to look up, resolutely staring into the depths of his empty glass, unable to form a coherent thought. He hears the man swallow and Bond cannot ignore it any longer.

He lifts his eyes, about to call the bartender for another drink to fortify him, when he realizes they are alone in the bar. The TVs are off, the music is muted, and all he can hear are the waves outside, his own heartbeat, and the slow breathing of the man beside him.

Bond turns, startled, and his companion smiles. The expression is dark, no hint of joy, but a sense of power and control.

_Who are you? What are you? Why are you here?_ “What are you drinking?” 

Bond startles himself with the question, and the man smiles again. “Ah. It’s a favorite wine of mine- produced locally, the recipe is quite singular. Would you like to taste?”

_What?_ “Yes.”

Again Bond blinks in surprise, but accepts the glass from the man without comment. He brings it to his lips, inhaling the redolent liquid within, and takes a hesitant sip.

The flavour fills every crevice of his mouth; cloying, biting, _ambrosia_. The taste lingers on his lips as Bond lowers the glass, intoxicating yet overwhelming. Bond feels woozy for the first time that night, despite the copious amounts of alcohol he imbued earlier. He offers the glass back to the man, hand shaking, torn between wanting ( _needing_ ) to drink every drop, and getting the liquid as far away from him as possible. 

The man keeps his inscrutable eyes on him as he accepts the cup, setting it down on the bar. The two men are silent for a long moment, and only when a cool breeze washes in from outside, the scent of salt and fish and smoke curling around them, does the tall man speak.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I realize this cuts off suddenly. This was an idea I had, and one that I may continue, but probably only if there is a demand for it. I may be content with this just living in my head, but if people want to read more, I would gladly try my best to write a full fic.  
> Find me on tumblr (faerieoftara) if you want to chat!


End file.
